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2>elivcre0 in St, peter' 6 Cburcb, Ca5en* 
ovia, B. 1^.. upon tbe t>a)> of tbe burial 
of iPresiDent /iRclRinle^, Sept. 19, 1901. 




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For the third time within the average 
life of a generation the people of this 
great Republic bow in sorrow and shame 
over the bier of a murdered chief magis- 
trate. Sorrow for the untimely taking off 
of a great and good man representing the 
sovereignty of the Nation; shame that 
there exists among us any one capable of 
such a deed, and that there are men who 
can rejoice at its commission. Have we 
trusted Liberty too far ? Have we in our 
national optimism forgotten the admoni- 
tion of Holy WTit, viz: that the imagina- 
tions of men are vain and prone to evil ? 

As when our common mother land is in 
danger all internal strife and debate cease 
at the shore line, so today there is no 
North, no South, no East, no West; no 



factional distinctions of any kind v/hatso- 
ever, — but as Americans, citizens of a com- 
mon country, loyal to one flag, we clasp 
hands over the grave of our murdered Pres- 
ident. The bitterness of grief is ours, but 
withal there is a stern determination to up- 
hold and defend the laws and the institu- 
tions for which he stood as the chief citi- 
zen of the Republic. 

It is not my purpose to pronounce a eulo- 
gy upon the life and public services of 
William McKinley; that will be done in 
many places and by many men, today, and 
I doubt not that we are ready to say 
Amen to the encomiums upon the charac- 
ter and services of the late President. His 
fame in history is secure. His last speech 
in Buffalo followed so soon by his martyr- 
dom has lifted him above judgement by 
partisan or sectional standards; the lon^ 



pathway over which his mortal remains 
have been borne from the bed of death to 
the Ohio town that was the home of his 
youth and mature manhood has been 
strewn with the blossoms of autumn; the 
strains of the beautiful hymn, "Nearer my 
God to Thee," have been wafted from vil- 
lage to town, and town to city; thousands 
have stood uncovered in respectful silence 
while the funeral car rolled by, while other 
thousands have looked reverently for the 
last time upon the marble features of 
America's great son, and the whole people 
in unity of spirit have looked on in sym- 
pathy, sorrow and love. 

The Iron Duke rests after battle among 
England's worthies. 

Napoleon sleeps in the city that saw 
his triumphs and witnessed his fall. 

The stern Ulysses is in peace where his 



mausoleum overlooks our own mighty 
Hudson. 

These were men of valor, men of the 
sword. They were followed, respected, 
even revered — but they were feared rather 
than loved. 

All that is mortal of William McKinley 
will today be consigned to its last resting- 
place while the Nation, or rather the 
World, weeps, and all hearts are filled with 
tenderness and love for the memory of the 
man as he lived and died among men. 
There may his ashes rest lightly upon him 
until the archangel's trump shall sound 
for him and us the dawn of the eternal 
morn; and I believe that future generations 
will think of him with something of the 
same reverential affection with which all 
Americans think of the great Virginian, 
the Father of his country, who sleeps be- 



side Potomac's shore. 

We ask at such a time as this, — Why 
should it be this way ? 

We ask when some dark affliction or 
providence comes to us, "Why should it 
be this way ? " 

What is this great, mysterious law, 
That rules us as we grope our way ; 

Which breaks the stone that showed no flaw 
And spares the most ignoble clay ? 

A serpent coiled w4th treacherous art 
W^here fair profusion blossoms deep, 

Dares strike a man of noblest heart 
And leave a world bereft to weep. 

The secret, strange and fathomless. 

Defies us as the ages run ; 
Our little minds, in their distress 

Can but repeat: "Thy will be done." 

Yes, this is the only answer, "Thy will 
be done;" and happy is the man who can 



say the words with the courage and faith 
of the good President, who had the words 
upon his lips as he went down into the dark 
waters, and we believe that angels clasped 
him on the other side. 

Men die, but God's manifestation of 
Himself in history continues. We return 
from the grave of the President to take up 
again the duties and conflicts of life. In 
so far as we cherish the example of the 
dead President, let it be to us an inspira- 
tion to fuller consecration to the service 
of our God, our country, and our fellow be- 
ings. 

God reigns, the government lives. To 
our present rulers we owe loyalty and sup- 
port in all good ways. To the serious 
problems that confront us we must give 
the attention of faithful. God-fearing men. 
As we pay our last tribute of love and re- 



spect to the noble President, whose mem- 
ory the nation will ever cherish, let us say 
with all reverence and loyalty, "The Presi- 
dent is dead ! God save and guide the 
President !" 

LIBRARY OF CONUREJib 



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